La Cosa Nostra, This things is ours
by lemonysmack
Summary: AU. It's the 40s in NYC. The Bass family is the biggest crime family in New York. Bart Bass' son is living the high mobster son life. Enjoying his women and booze to the left and to the right. Can one innocent girl throw his world upside down?
1. Crowbar

1941, New York City

In a back chamber of a New York City bakery, there lies a small dark brothel. One of the many rackets the Bass family owned. On the small stage several girls were dancing around in outfits that could only be classified as skimpy little nothings.

Charles 'Chuck' Bass was comfortably seated in a red fauteuil, his trademark smirk adorning his face as he watched upon the girls dancing in front of him and holding his scotch in another hand. The song ended and the girls all took a deep bow before standing up and watching him with hope in their eyes.

He pointed to a girl with ginger coloured curly hair and ruby red lips. "You," he simply said.

She looked at her fellow dancers arrogantly before throwing an angelic look at Chuck and smiling at him as she descended the steps of the stage. Another song was started and she seductively walked over to him, tracing a finger down his cheek before starting another sensual dance, climbing over him and dragging her lips across his throat.

A man walked into the small brothel, looking around for a short moment and then walking up to the chair where Chuck was sitting.

"Mister Bass, your father sent me to retrieve you. He wishes to have a word with you."

---

Bart Bass, head of the biggest New York crime family, sat in his office, impatiently tapping his fingers against his desk. He sent for his son quite some time ago and the young man had yet to show up. Bart Bass wasn't a man with a lot of patience and his blood had almost reached a boiling point when the door to his office finally opened and his dishevelled looking son came walking in. There were red smudges on his neck, leftovers from some whore's lipstick.

His son, Chuck Bass, slowly ran a hand through his dark hair. "You sent for me, father?"

"Yes, Charles. Please sit."

"I'd rather stand; I trust this will be over soon."

Bart Bass sighed. "Do not talk back to me, I told you to sit, Chuck. So sit."

Chuck shook his head, but he gave in and took a seat in one of the chairs placed before his father's big mahogany desk.

"I heard you've been enjoying our businesses."

"Yes father, some of the houses are truly magnificent."

"Chuck, you disgrace me and the family by being spotted all around town with those cheap whores on your arm. Our businesses are purely for generating income and respect, I do not want you in there anymore."

"But father, what am I to do with my time?"

"Spend more time with the family. Paul Mori suspects we might have a rat in our midst. Why don't you try and find it?" Bart suggested. "Or help extort some businesses, we can always use more money. You never know when it might come in handy."

"Surely you're not serious. You're asking me to become a mobster?"

Bart banged his fist onto his desk. "Stop it, I will not hear anymore from you. If I find you in one of those places again, you will not like what's going to happen. Now go." Bart bellowed. "Now!"

Chuck left the room quickly, intent on kicking something, hard. His father was taking away the only flicker of light he had in the dark existence of being a crime boss' son. He stomped his way through the halls of the Bass family compound.

In the living room some of his father's most important men were seated.

"Guys, is there anyone in this city that needs a beating? Because I'm feeling very capable of handing one out."

"He had the talk with you, didn't he?" Bernardo Daniel, one of his father's capo's remarked. He rose from his seat. "There this jewellery shop on the Upper East Side that isn't paying their protection money. I think it's time we tell 'em how it is."

Chuck followed the capo out to his car, somewhat bummed out that they weren't going to take his limo. He guessed this car was probably better to drive when they needed to get away fast. Bernardo pointed to a random low ranked member of the family.

"You," he said. "You're going to drive us."

The man walked over to the car and slid into the driver's seat without question. Bernardo didn't really tolerate anyone ranked lower than himself in the family. Thought they were worthless, potential rats. Turncoats.

"Upper East Side, the Waldorf Jewellery shop. And hurry up, will ya? We don't got all day."

The man nodded.

"What are you waiting for!" Bernardo boomed loudly. "DRIVE!"

---

The Waldorf shop was pretty, it showed class. No wonder his father wanted this shop giving him protection money. It was evident only the richer families bought their jewellery here. The owner, Harold Waldorf, really despised the New York crime families. His shop was one of the most fought over places. His shop was always in the hands of one of the families, but he always refused to pay the protection money.

He'd say he didn't need protection. Boy was he wrong.

Chuck watched the façade of the building, he could only see one person in the shop, it was currently vacant of customers. Good, that would mean fewer witnesses. Bernardo and Chuck shared a look and then both exited the vehicle. Bernardo was carrying a crowbar and swinging like it was something way less intimidating.

"You take care of the guy, I'll pretty up his displays."

They shared a nod, and Chuck was the first one to enter the shop.

Harold looked up from his counter, eyes wide. "You again. I told you I wouldn't pay protection money, I don't need protection."

"We're here to prove you wrong, turn off the alarm. Now, we'll hunt down your family if you don't."

Harold reached under the counter hesitantly and switched the alarm off, in response Bernardo swung his crowbar and slammed it into one of the glass sparkling displays. It shattered into a million tiny pieces and small bits of jewellery flew around the shop.

Chuck rounded the counter and grabbed the man by his collar, pushing him against the wall. "If you don't pay, this pretty little shop of yours won't be so pretty anymore. You hear me?" He roughly shoved the man into the wall again, watching his head loll back and smash into the wood. The man's eyes were turning back into his head and Chuck was afraid the man would lose consciousness.

As all this happened Bernardo was absolutely pleased with smashing a few more displays. By now the entire floor was covered in tiny fragments of glass.

"Pay up!" Chuck yelled at the man.

"Never."

Chuck punched him in the gut. The man doubled over which resulted in Chuck giving him an uppercut to the jaw.

In the back of the store, a door opened slowly. A young woman came walking out holding an envelop in her hands. She was beautiful, probably not a day older than eighteen. She had long flowing curly brown hair, and her lips were painted a dark red. Her big brown doe eyes were wide and filled with fear as she walked over to Chuck. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, completely forgetting about the shopkeeper he was beating up.

She held the envelop out to him.

"Here, take it. It's all that we have right now." A small tear fell from her eye and made a wet trail across her pale cheek. "But please, stop hurting my father."


	2. Record Player

Chuck let go of the older man's collar and watched him as he slumped into a heap on the floor. He heard the audible gasp of the young woman. He signalled for Bernardo to halt his destructive activities and walked over to the shopkeeper's daughter.

He held out his hand and she laid the envelop in it. He took it and opened it up, inspecting the cash that was inside. It would do for now, just a little under the number the high end stores pay them normally. He softly kicked Harold Waldorf's side, the older man gave a painful moan as a response.

"Guess your daughter is the only one who knows how it works around here. Let this be a lesson."

Bernardo left the shop slowly and Chuck followed after him, but not before giving the shopkeeper's daughter a wink. She shook her head in disgust as a response.

The young woman hurried to her father's side and crouched next to him. "Daddy are you alright?"

"B-Blair," Harold stammered. "You shouldn't have given them the money." It took so much effort for him just to stay awake that he could barely form the words.

"Oh my God, Daddy. Come on, I'll take you to the hospital."

---

"I heard you finally got Harold Waldorf to pay up. Good work son, this is the kind of effort I was talking about."

"Sure father." He left out the part where the beautiful young woman handed him the money. Because he knew, even if he would've kicked Waldorf into hell, the shopkeeper wouldn't have paid up anyway.

"I won't be at dinner tonight. But I heard Paulie's daughter would be. Why don't you go and accompany her. I'm sure a lady like her would enjoy the company."

"I'll see what I can do, father."

He hurriedly left the office. Paulie's daughter, hah. The only thing missing on her was a wart, then she'd be a total witch. Down to the pointed nose and crooked teeth. The woman was a hag, he'd rather die a slow and painful death than converse with that dreadful being.

"Bernardo," Chuck called to his accomplish. "If anyone asks, I'm out exercising."

The accomplish smirked. "Sure, you're going _exercising_. Casanova."

---

A month later.

Blair Waldorf was alone in the front of the shop. All the displays had been restored to their original glory and all the shiny masterpieces were back glimmering in the boxes. Her father had healed fast and good after being assaulted by that awful dark-haired man. Such a crude way of dealing with people. Harold was currently out back restoring the golden watch of some society lady.

She was normally comfortable with being in the shop all by herself. But after last month's attack, she always felt a little on edge. She knew her father hadn't sent the money to the Bass' address. All she did was sit around and wait for another car to show up. Her father didn't know this, but she had another envelop hidden behind the counter - away from another envelop filled with money that her father had put there himself - and if he refused to pay, she'd pull out the envelop and pay the mobsters off. She wasn't going to let anything happen to her father again. He was much too important to her.

She picked up the needle of the record player and put a new record on it, she put the needle down and the soft sounds of the Jimmy Dorsey orchestra filled the shop. She softly hummed along with the Latin tunes of Green Eyes, her hips gently swaying with the tune.

"_And eyes that promise sweet nights, Bring to my soul a longing, a thirst for love divine_." She softly sung whilst running hand through her long brown curls.

Behind her someone clapped and she jumped, surprised by the sudden sound. She wasn't expecting someone to walk into the shop. She turned around to see who it was, customer friendly smile plastered onto her porcelain face. It fell away completely when she saw who was standing in front of the counter.

"You." It sounded bitter.

The man smirked. "Wow, what a nice welcome Miss Waldorf. Especially after the way I let you go the last time we met."

"I have no interest in being polite with you. You hurt my father and for that you will never find a place in my book."

"Well, well. Isn't that a little harsh?" Chuck laughed sarcastically, almost maniacal. "I was disappointed to see that we had not received a payment from your father. Will you go fetch him for me, dear?"

She opened the door to the back room. "Daddy, they're here."

Blair was hesitant, scared.

Chuck had walked over to the record player and had picked up the needle, stopping the music. Everything bored him so quickly, and now after he heard Blair sing the tune, he couldn't listen to it anymore. The record sounded awful in comparison to the shopkeeper's daughter's sultry voice.

She turned away from the back door, the frightened look still not gone from her face. "My father will be with you in a moment, he has one small detail to finish on a watch he is working on. Would you like to sit?" Chuck was not oblivious to the forged politeness that she carried with her, he suggested her father had overheard her before and had made a comment about it.

"You really expect me to be a patient man, Miss Waldorf? You can tell your father that I wish to see him _now_, or else there is more to the unfortunate events that took place last month."

"You wouldn't," Blair breathed.

"Try me."

She hurriedly went back to the chamber her father was occupying, he overheard parts of the hushed conversation she had with him. She sounded scared, afraid her father was stubborn and would get hurt like he did last time. Sure enough, Harold appeared in the doorway this time.

"Mr. Bass," he said angrily. "I see you've come to collect what is not rightfully yours."

"I'm merely _protecting_ you, Waldorf. Now where is the money you owe us?"

Harold reached for the envelop under the counter, and held it out towards the mob boss' son. "Here, take your blood money. Now leave my shop."

"Of course, with pleasure. Have a nice day further, Miss Waldorf."

Blair moved her head in a small nod.

---

"Maria." Chuck kissed the small Italian woman on both cheeks. "It's good to see you, it's been too long, really."

The woman smiled. "Yes cousin, it really has been. You look great, real handsome." She had a sweet rich voice, almost enchanting.

"Thanks. I must say, Chicago becomes you, you look fantastic, Maria."

Her perfectly straight white teeth were framed by her bright red lips, creating one of the most sincere smiles ever to grace this planet. "Uncle must be so proud of you, you look just like your mother."

Chuck laughed, although it was to be debated if he meant it. "I hardly doubt it, cousin." He walked towards one of the mansion's sitting rooms. "My father has put together a party, it's kind of a 'welcome back' soirée in honour to you. It's mainly for the family and some of our most appreciated clients."

She clapped her hands in joy. "Great, I love a party. Is there any entertainment?"

"Not that I know of."

"Oh Chuck, all the wonderful jazz music in Chicago is fantastic. Even you would love it, do you think Uncle can arrange for a singer at my party? That would be wonderful."

"I don't know about my father, but I know just the girl."


	3. Microphone

**A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews, they really do give me the motivation to write this story. Thanks, all of you. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put some hard work into it. No other cast members in this one yet, but they will be featured in the next chapters. Serena and Nate most def, and I'll see if I can work the Humphreys into it. **

**That was it, enjoy the new chapter. Leave a review and tell me what you think of it, I really appreciate it.**

**---**

3: Microphone

This was all beginning to be a bit much to handle. This afternoon she was just minding her own business, arranging shiny pieces of jewellery in their displays and making small talk with the rich ladies coming to buy stuff. Right now, she was in a back room of the Bass family mansion, wearing a ruby red cocktail dress, preparing herself to sing in front of a room of people. A small and exuberant Italian young lady came in some time ago and put all this make-up onto her face. She hadn't taken a look in the mirror yet, but her gut was telling her that her father would not approve of the way she was looking right now.

Her father hadn't approved of her being at the Bass mansion in the first place. After Chuck Bass had visited the shop this morning, she had continued in her usual fashion. Around three that same day a member of the Bass family came into the shop and let them know that Chuck Bass desired for Blair to sing at a party he was throwing. Her father refused, saying that he'd cut his own throat sooner than let his daughter fraternise with people like the Bass family.

But Blair knew what it would mean if she did not get into the car they had sent for her. They'd be back, those awful men. And she had a feeling that this time her father wouldn't get away with bruises and a busted lip. It was all very frightening, but she had to admit, there was something that was pulling her towards the dangerous glamour the Bass family emitted.

She glanced at the clock, seven more minutes until she was to perform. It would be the first time she sung in front of an audience different than her family. The piano player had been informed of the song she would be singing.

---

He was having fun, really. He was talking with several pretty daughters of his father's accomplishes and enjoying a glass of fine scotch. His cousin, Maria, seemed to be having a good time as well. Last he saw her she was all over some pretty boy arrogant Italian bastard. He overheard a conversation between him and his other pretty boy friends, bragging how he'd bed the naïve girl from the Chicago. As if, like Chuck would let something like that happen to his cousin.

Behind him the record player plays soft Chicago jazz, just like Maria wishes. He knew Blair was scheduled to perform soon, his accomplish had informed him of it. Apparently Harold Waldorf had refused, stubborn bastard. But his daughter had been the smarter one yet again. She had snuck out of the jewellery store and had gotten into the luxurious car they had sent for her. She was, after all, the star of the evening. Maria had been so excited someone was to perform at her party, she had been telling everyone she spoke to.

He excused himself from the beautiful ladies and took his last sip from his scotch, putting his glass down on one of the tables scattered around the room. He turned to a few of his father's friends and joined into a conversation about one of the rackets that had been particularly profitable.

To his left soft piano sounds started up, and the music from the record player died slowly, a man was seated at the grand piano he had arranged for. Next to the piano stood a beautiful young woman, wearing the prettiest red dress he had seen in a long time. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into an elegant style, with some dark ringlets falling down her face, functioning as a beautiful frame for a perfect picture.

The picture was even more like heaven when she started singing, _"You don't know what love is, Until you've learned the meaning of the blues. Until you've loved a love you had to lose, You don't know what love is." _

She looked him straight into his eyes, emitting disapproval and joy at the same time. Chuck felt she fit perfectly up there on that stage, with rooms full of people admiring her beauty. That of her singing and of her being.

Maria looked incredibly happy with the woman on the stage and kept giving him the thumbs up. This, of course, also meant that his father would be pleased with what he had accomplished today.

Blair moved slowly with the music, her hips swaying ever so lightly. He felt something in his stomach when he watched her, and the feeling was not familiar. Her small hand gripped the microphone, her fingers curling around the metal like they were made to be there.

The song ended and the piano player rose from his stool and walked over to the microphone, taking it from her. "Everyone, the wonderfully beautiful and gifted Blair Waldorf."

The room erupted in applause, and Chuck might've been the one clapping the loudest. The piano player held her hand as he helped her off the stage. She shook hands with some people and was all smiles. Truth to be told, Blair had never been more nervous in her entire life. She knew some of these people were very dangerous, and here she was, talking to them. Listening to them complimenting her on her singing.

Chuck walked towards Blair, grabbing a flute of champagne on the way. When he reached her he handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly.

"You look wonderful," he said, his voice a melange of darkness and slight lust.

She takes a sip from the champagne. "Thank you, it was that lady over there that picked out the dress and did my hair." She waved at Maria.

"My cousin always had nice taste." His dark eyes scanned her from top to bottom yet again. "How is your father?"

Her expression turned hostile. "Why would you care? Listen, I am here for one night, and one night only. Merely to make sure my father doesn't manoeuvre himself into positions he most definitely will get hurt in. I do not want to have anything with you, or the circuit you find yourself in."

"Feisty little wildcat, aren't we? And exactly what circuit would that be Blair."

"You know what I mean. Everyone in New York City knows that you're a womanizing, whore walking, drug using...

"A womanizing, whore walking, drug using what?"

"Mobster." It was whispered.

He laughed. "Why are you so nervous to say it, Blair? Do I frighten you? You should know by now that if I had the desire to hurt you or your family that I would've done it by now. After all, you just said I had the power to do it."

"I'm sorry." She sounded ever more scared than she usually did around him.

He took her hand, "Come with me," he said.

She followed after him, the champagne still in her other hand. They left the room and he brought her to something that resembled a hotel suite. It was pretty, very nicely decorated and still manly.

"These are my quarters. My father said that something like this would keep me out of the house, he never wanted me interfering with any of his business. That was until… I think two years ago. Suddenly he got incredibly mad at me and told me to become more interested in the family. But he still let me keep my distractions. You know, what you call whore walking and drug using." He sat himself down in a leather fauteuil.

"Do you have any idea what it is like to be the son of Bart Bass?" he asked, looking up into her brown eyes.

"Do _you_ think that gives you the right to beat up my father?" she retorted.

"Hey, that's just the business I'm in. Your father's in jewellery, I'm in extortion." He laughed a little, running a hand through his hair. "You know this is the first time I ever brought a girl up here?"

"Am I supposed to be flattered or something?" she put one hand on her hip, arrogant look on her face. She scoffed. "Do you expect me to fall into your arms right now? Because I certainly wouldn't be counting on that if I were you. First of all I would never, ever sleep with you. And who says I'm not already spoken for?"

Chuck rose from his own seat walking towards and stopping when he was just an inch away from her. She cowered a little in his presence, Chuck carried this aura of danger that obligated you to be afraid, even if it was just a little bit.

"Don't automatically think the worst of me, I'm warning you." His words were strong, bitter.

"I'd rather you take me back to the party, Mr. Bass."

He grabbed her hand in a rough manner. "Whatever, follow me." He all but pulled her out of his room and through the hallways back to where the party was going on, although it didn't look the same as when they left it some time ago.

All the guests were seated, the music had stopped altogether and the members of the family stood huddled in groups quietly discussing things.

"Wait here," he told Blair and walked over to his father. He put a hand on his dad's shoulder and looked at him questionably. "Father, what's going on?"

Bernardo turned towards him.

"The Rosetti family has gathered in front of our gate, and they ain't bringing presents."


	4. Hatch

**A/N: This one is a little short, I know. But it took me ages to write this, it kind of functions as a passage between the first part and the next part of the story. I promise the next chapters will be longer. I mentioned some of the other cast members in this chapter but they will be physically available in the next chapters. Chapter five will be posted much sooner. **

**I'm dealing with a lot of shifts at work, and with my parents being on vacation I'm in charge of a household of two people. No wait, two teenagers. Kind of a tough job. So I have limited time between cooking, cleaning and raising my older brother to write. **

**Please leave a review, I like them. Enjoy.**

**---**

4: Hatch

Chuck immediately set himself into action, he walked over to Blair who was standing all by herself in the middle of the big room looking more than a little scared. He grabbed her arm,

"There's a situation, I need to get you out of here." He made a promise to her father and he was going to keep it.

"A situation," she stumbled along after him. Her heels were a little too high so she could barely keep up with him. "What do you mean 'a situation?'"

Chuck didn't slow down. "I don't have time for that right now," he snapped and then sighed. "Will you just follow me, please."

She ripped her arm from his grasp, "I want you to tell me what is going on. I'm not a four year old, you know."

"Then why are you acting like one." He was beginning to lose his patience, how was he supposed to explain family rivalry to a girl whose life existed of diamonds, dresses and how to fix their hair. He knew Blair wasn't that shallow, but she wouldn't understand it, she just wouldn't.

Blair let out a sigh as well. "Whatever, just stop manhandling me. I can walk by myself." She walked ahead of him, her head up high. He watched her walk, her gentle curves swaying from side to side. Her long pale legs seemingly endless and adorned by the beautiful pumps with high heels. He admired them and then saw something that made him scoff at her previous statement; her ankle wobbled. She fell down and grabbed her ankle letting out a small cry of pain.

"Fucking shoes," she muttered.

"Hey, hey, princess. No cussing, daddy wouldn't approve." He chuckled.

She glared at him… and if looks could kill. "Would you shut it already, that hurt okay." She started to unclasp her shoes and took them off. "That's going to swell."

He walked over to her, "I'm sorry I laughed. Do you need help?"

"No," she snapped before adding a much nicer, "thank you."

He ignored her and grabbed her hands to help her get up from the floor, she was a little wobbly at first but then she managed to take a few steps. He pointed to a set of double doors and they walked towards them. The doors let into the house's giant kitchen. Some staff was cleaning up the dishes and leftovers from the family dinner that had been hosted before.

"Are you taking me out of the house, or are we going somewhere inside."

"Inside." He nodded to on of the staff members who immediately seemed to know what was going on because he ran ahead of them and started dragging boxes from one spot to another revealing a floor hatch. Chuck thanked the man and then opened the hatch, a narrow staircase led downstairs. "Ladies first."

Blair slowly climbed down the stairs trying not to show her ankle hurt like hell. When she stepped off the last step she found herself in a small room. It was simple, nothing like the fancy decorating that was to be found around the rest of the house. It held a small cot, a sofa, a table and chair and a small basket with some books and other objects in it.

"Weird, isn't it?" Chuck said from behind her. "A room like this. This is my hiding place. Whenever something dangerous is going on upstairs my father would send me down here with a maid." He laughed a little, and pointed to the cot. "That would be the bed where I lost my virginity, to Carmen the maid."

"Ew, you're so crude, Basshole."

"Basshole, haha. Clever, Waldorf. You made that up all by yourself?"

She ignored him and flipped her hair over her shoulder, she replayed his earlier words over and over in her head, because she still didn't completely understand what was going on. It was dangerous, or else he wouldn't get her down here. That was obvious, but she didn't know what it was precisely.

"I should be up there, helping them. My father's men, they're not just metaphorical family, to me they're real family. They're all I have. I'm crazy, protecting a client's daughter just because I promised the lowlife I would." Chuck mumbled and Blair could only pick up a few words. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes he grabbed his lighter and lit one of his cigarettes taking a deep drag and ravelling in the relaxation

Blair's mouth fell open when she saw him, she marched over to him and grabbed the cigarette from his lips and crushed in on the table's surface.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing," he yelled grabbing her arm.

"You must be crazy. Lighting up in small room like this, I refuse to be stuck in a room that is filled with disgusting cigarette stench."

He shook his head. "I should have just let you up there, get caught in the crossfire and have your smartass comments be dealt with right then and there." He was yelling loudly, scaring her, but not enough to make her speechless.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I can't."

The answer made her curious, but not less mad. "Why the hell not?"

He dropped down onto the cot, his head in his hands. "I don't know, I just feel this weird urge to protect you. It came up to me the moment I saw you in your father's shop. I just need to make sure you are okay, and then everything is alright. For example what happened upstairs, I went up to you. Not Maria, my family. No, I went up to you."

"And I'm grateful for that," she sat next to him. "But you have got to understand that you and I, it's nothing. I tend to have that effect on people, don't laugh or make a snide comment. My father always tells me I let out this innocence that everybody needs to protect."

"It's true," he admitted.

"I hate it. I can't even try to rebel, everyone goes into full protection mode when I am around. Sometimes I just want to let go and have irresponsible fun."

"I'd love to see you have irresponsible fun," he laughed.

"See, you can't even imagine it. You should see this one friend of mine, Serena. She is really irresponsible, she drinks and has you know what and she even dates people from Brooklyn. Can you imagine, someone from the factories. Ew, I wouldn't want that in my silk sheets."

Chuck laughed whole heartedly this time. "You really are something, Blair. What do you describe as responsible fun, then?"

"I don't know, feeding the ducks with Nate in Central Park, painting or playing the piano. Helping my daddy sort out diamonds to put in a custom necklace. It's what I like to do." She smiled thinking of the good times she has like that. "What do you do for fun."

He thought for a minute. "I like to check up on the businesses I invested in, it shows me that I am successful in what I do. Also, women, music and dancing."

"Oh my, Chuck Bass dances?"

"Actually I like women, dancing to music. Preferably with little to no clothing."

"You are disgusting, Chuck Bass," she playfully smacked him the chest. They laughed loudly.

A light came from the stairs and one of the Bass' family members walked down the stairs looking troubled.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something," he stammered looking at the floor. "The Rosetti family has left after a brief confrontation that we won. But there is some bad news.." the man hesitated.

Chuck rose from the cot, "What is it?"

"Your father, he got hurt, sir."


	5. Helmet

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reviewing. I'm aware this chapter took quite long. I was completely thinking over the story, and decided to go in an entirely different direction than I had originally planned. But you will find out eventually. **

**Chapters will come a little more frequently after this one, but I am very busy with school. So please keep in mind that it might be like one or two chapter per week. So enjoy, and please leave a review. **

**---**

**Chapter Five: Helmet**

The bubbly blonde laughed loudly. "You, Blair Waldorf, were at the Bass mansion last night? Right, you're terrified of hobos walking by the store window, and you go into the house of a New York crime family. Don't lie to me, Blair. Where were you really?"

Sometimes her best friend made her mad, like when she accused her of lying about life changing events. Well, maybe the night before wasn't exactly life changing, but it sure opened up her eyes that this life is a lot more dangerous than she had first imagined it to be.

"I am serious, S. Chuck Bass, the son of Bart Bass came to the jewellery store and overheard me singing. Next thing I know I'm being asked to sing at one of the family's parties. I swear on my love for my parents that I am not lying."

"Okay then, I believe." She hugged her friend, letting out a little squeal. "So tell me, is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"The stories about Chuck Bass, I heard he was this incredibly charming, handsome guy that manages to wind every woman around his finger."

Blair laughed a little. "That's not the Chuck I saw last night."

The blonde mouth fell, "Spill."

---

_Previous night_

"What do you mean my father got hurt."

Chuck had suddenly forgotten about their conversation and had jumped up from where he was sitting. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed the man by his collar, pushing him up against the wall. "Tell me what the fuck happened," he shouted.

"Y-your father," the man stumbled, "he got hit by one of the bullets. It only grazed him, but there was quite some blood loss. They took him to a hospital."

Chuck let go of the man's collar, dropping him back on the floor. The man rose, standing awkwardly against the wall. Chuck ran his hand through his dark hair, a look of worry etched onto his face. Blair was still seated her eyes flying from the man and back to Chuck in fear.

"You," he turned around pointing at the man, "You're going to make sure this girl returns to her home safely. If I find out anything went wrong, so far as a hole in the road that the tire got stuck in, heads are going to roll." He shot an apologetic look at Blair and then left the room.

Blair rose from the chair. "I'm sorry, sir," she softly said.

"Come on," the man sighed.

He walked in front of her back up the stairs and to the many cars that were waiting outside. Many guests of the party were outside, some of their clothes covered in tiny specks of blood. Some of the women were even hyperventilating from the terrifying events that had just occurred in the house. Sirens could be heard in the distance, approaching the house. Blair followed the man, mostly keeping her eyes facing the ground, she was afraid she'd see anything that would complicate her sleeping.

---

Dorota, the Waldorf's personal maid knocked on Blair's bedroom door. "Miss Blair, there is man at door for you. He says he know you."

"It's okay, Dorota. Tell him I'll be right down to see him."

Blair expected it to be Nate Archibald, the young man she had been conversing with at school. He was real handsome, born into a family of New York city royalty. Her family hadn't met him before, so Dorota probably didn't know the man's name, or how to pronounce it. Eastern European servants that knew how to speak English properly were quite hard to come by these days. All the rich families wanted them.

The Waldorfs were quite blessed to have Dorota. She was a hard working, caring, sweet woman that never really complained. No matter what they ordered her to do.

Serena had left some time ago, saying that she obligated to have lunch with her brother and grandmother. Cece van der Woodsen was a very demanding lady. Expected everything to go her way.

Blair glanced in the mirror and fixed a few loose strands of hair. She looked pretty today, no thanks to the faint dark circles under her eyes. Even though she hadn't seen anything that was truly gruesome, she still didn't want to imagine what went down in that house last night. If the head of the family had gotten hurt, how many people who had stood around him, protecting him, had gone down before him.

She fixed her dress and left her room to go the family room. Whilst crossing the foyer she saw a head of hair that was definitely darker than that of Nate's, and she squinted to see who it was sitting on her sofa.

"Hello," she said, making her presence noticeable.

The man turned around, smirk on his face. It was no one other than Chuck Bass. Sitting on her couch, how did he even know where she lived.

"Hey," he said, rising from the couch.

"May I ask what you are doing at my family's house. I doubt my father would approve of it."

He smirk grew even bigger. "I know, I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. You know, with everything that happened last night."

She motioned for him to sit back down on the couch, he nodded and took his seat while she crossed the room and took a seat in an elegant armchair.

"I'm fine," she answered. "Sleeping was a little challenging last night, but considering everything else I am doing good. How is your father."

"He'll be okay. Like that guy said, the bullet only grazed him. Didn't even require a lot of sutures."

"And the other men."

Chuck's smirk fell, an expression of loss and sadness painting onto his features. "We lost seven men, including a good friend of mine. Many were wounded. The attack came out of nowhere. The Rosetti family has never set foot on our grounds like this. We were unprepared."

"I'm sorry," Blair said.

"Don't worry about it, that's the life I live." He looked around the sitting room. "So where is your father, anyway?"

"Him and my mother are visiting relatives. They left early this morning, I was still asleep and they decided not to wake me."

"I see," he said. "So you aren't doing anything today?"

"Not exactly, I was thinking of catching up on my reading, but I suppose I could do that some other time as well."

"Would you care to join me somewhere?"

She hesitated, not sure she wanted to place herself in another possibly dangerous situation. But then she considered the way he had dealt with her last night. He had immediately made sure that she was safe, she actually trusted him with her life.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but okay. I'll come with you."

He smiled broadly, taking her hand. "Then follow me." He tugged her arm and started walking towards the front door. Blair yelled to Dorota that she was going out and that she would be back for dinner. If her father asked, she was at Serena's.

---

This time there were no drivers, the only mode of transportation was a black motorcycle, with two helmets dangling from the steering wheel.

"We're taking that?"

"Absolutely," he laughed. He handed her a helmet grabbing one himself as well.

Blair squeaked, "But it'll crush my hair."

"I promise I won't comment you on it. Now come on," he chuckled lightly. He climbed on the motorcycle and beckoned her to come over.

She shook her head and reluctantly walked over to the motorcycle, the pending hair disaster put aside she had never been on a motorcycle in her life and it did seem exciting. Grabbing the helmet from his hands and pulling it over her long dark locks. Chuck started the bike and they took off down the street.

---

The motorcycle ride seemed endless, the cool wind whipping against her form while she clung onto Chuck's back. After what appeared to be hours later the motorcycle stopped at a clearing in a forest. Very secluded, far away from civilisation. They were very alone.

Blair climbed off the bike and took the helmet off her head, she looked around the clearing. It was beautiful, the area was extremely lush and green. The large trees towered above them, seemingly touching the sky.

"It's very nice around here, Chuck. Where are we?"

"This is property owned by the family, not via crime, actually. It's been in our family for decades. I try to come here as often as possible. My father is planning to build houses on this lot. Can you imagine all the trees being cut down?"

"No, that's terrible."

"It's also a very secluded area, you can't really hear anything that goes on around here, at least not for a few miles."

She turned around, his comment confusing her. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw him sticking his hand into his jacket and pulling out a gun.


	6. Boom

**A/N: It's been a really long time since I have written things for this story. I wasn't happy with the way it had turned out, and the way I had written it. Also, I kind of lost my interest in Gossip Girl for a while. But some time ago I played an old video game that belongs to my brother, Mafia 2, and I got some new ideas for this plot. So here it is, a new chapter. I know it's short, but it's all I can come up with at this point. **

**Please tell me what you think of it, and I will try and make sure that this is updated more frequently. Because nothing beats Chuck & Blair. **

It wasn't until late that night that she finally returned to her Park Avenue home. She made sure her parents were sound asleep before sneaking down into the foyer and picking up the phone. She dialed the number for her dear friend Serena van der Woodsen. It took a full minute and a half before the groggy voice came from the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Serena? It's me, Blair."

"Blair? Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

A smile erupted onto Blair's face. She was so excited about telling her friend about everything that happened to her this afternoon. "He took me to this forrest, S. It was a beautiful secluded spot. But then he pulled this gun on me, and I was completely freaking out, thinking about how I was going to die and how no one would be able to ever find my body." She took a hurried breath before continuing her story. "But then, he told me he was scared for my safety, since we all knew about his and his family's reputation, and that he wanted me to be able to defend myself.

And then he taught me how to fire the gun."

"Blair, what are you talking about? Who is _he_?"

"Well, Chuck Bass, of course. Who else would it be?"

Blair heard an exasperated sigh coming from the other end of the phone line. "Blair, are you still fraternizing with him?"she asked. "God, sometimes you are so naïve. At first, I didn't want to go into it because I just thought it was a onetime thing between the two of you. He's not concerned for your safety. The only thing men like Chuck Bass are interested in is getting underneath your skirt, once he gets what he wants from you, he's gone, trust me."

Blair felt like someone had stuck a knife into her heart and twisted it around a few times.

"I'm only trying to protect you, B," Serena said softly. "It's for the best that you don't see him anymore. Go to sleep, it's late. I'll see you at lunch tomorrow."

Chuck pulled into the mansion's driveway. He nodded at two of his father's capo's who were just leaving the compound. The day had been long, and all he wanted to do was grab his glass of scotch and go up to his bedroom. But as he walked through the front door he found out that wasn't even an option.

Most of his father's important men were littered around the sitting room, glasses of rum in their hands and frowns upon their faces.

"What's going on around here?" Chuck asked Provenzano, one of the younger men high up the ladder in their family.

"We have riled up most of the family members. They have been planning a counter attack on the family that broke into the compound last night. In about an hour, we move out."

"What are we going to do?"

"There are groups of our men set up inside most of their higher grossing rackets, when the clock chimes midnight, the whole place will go boom, there will be a lot of casualties, we're sure. But they came into our house, which is simply unacceptable. You in?"

"Of course, those assholes hurt my father, I've got to avenge him in some way, shape or form. What do you want me to do?"

Provenzano thought for a minute. "I think it's best you stay with me. We'll be part of the back-up team. When something is leaning towards going wrong, we move out and deal with all the fuckers there. Is that a plan or what?"

"You're brilliant, Provenzano. It's twenty minutes to midnight, I need to get changed first, freshen up a little and prepare for battle."

He walked towards the grand stairs in the foyer.

"About that," Provenzano yelled after him, "Where the hell have you been all day. Rocelli told me your bike was gone, and you haven't checked in with your father all day. Care to explain?"

"It's a long story, friend. If we make it to tomorrow morning, I'll be sure to tell you all of it. But now, we are going to shoot some people."

**So that was it guys, hope you enjoyed. **

**Comments are like delicious, colorful macaroons. So you know what to do 3**


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